


An Unexpected Road Trip (or: Enjolras has to prove that he can be spontaneous)

by AbschaumNo1



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enjolras is competitive and that's the only reason why he's here, M/M, Road Trips, but he's ok with that, except he finds that it isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 15:30:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbschaumNo1/pseuds/AbschaumNo1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Later when they lay side by side in the back of the van and Enjolras listened to Grantaire breathing slowly next to him, he figured that he was thoroughly fucked. He couldn't bring himself to mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unexpected Road Trip (or: Enjolras has to prove that he can be spontaneous)

**Author's Note:**

> [thecumberbutt](http://thecumberbutt.tumblr.com) asked for an eR road trip and it was supposed to be something short or an outline but it ran away from me...

Enjolras didn't really know how he had ended up on a road trip with Grantaire, except that was a lie; Enjolras knew exactly how he had ended up on a rod trip with Grantaire. Grantaire had talked about it ever since the beginning of their last year at the lycée. He had said that he would go on a road trip through Europe when he was out of school and Enjolras had always thought it was a good idea; it suited Grantaire and the way he always seemed restless, itching to move, and knowing his friend he would come back with a ton of new impressions that he would turn into something.

Grantaire had talked his parents into getting him an old VW van for his nineteenth birthday, and had spent a lot of time all throughout winter with modifying it to serve his purposes. The bus was his pride and joy and even before he stared his road trip he spent a lot of time in it, drinking with friends, smoking weed with Jehan, or just hanging out, playing guitar or sketching and reading. A stack of books had begun to accumulate in a corner and sketches and photos adorned the walls, meticulously arranged around a poem Jehan had written and put up at some point.

July drew closer and with it Grantaire's departure. Soon they had sat their exams and had been to school for the very last time. A few days before Grantaire left they had a farewell party and it was probably that which was the reason for Enjolras being on a road trip with Grantaire.

Being as much of a lightweight as he was, Enjolras usually didn't drink much, he didn't like not being in control and the state of drunkenness incorporated everything he didn't want to be. But this time he had somehow ended up drinking a little more than the usual one or two glasses of wine and he found himself very close to being drunk. At least that was the only way he could explain his reaction to something Grantaire had said.

Courfeyrac had asked him where he planned to go and if he had any plans regarding things that he wanted to do, and Grantaire had answered with that easiness that came so natural to him, “I haven't planned a thing. I will see where the street takes me and what I will find on my way, because unlike others in our group I can be spontaneous and don't have to have everything planned out before I actually do it.”

He had grinned at Enjolras when he said it and the blond was just drunk enough to take it as a challenge. 

“So you say I couldn't do that? Just relax and decide spontaneously?” he had shot back, and Grantaire had laughed.

“We both know you can't.”

“Then how about I show you that I can?”

“You? How?”

“Take me with you.”

“Take you...” Grantaire was gaping now, “You can't be serious, Enjolras.”

“I am dead serious.” Enjolras raised an eyebrow, challenging Grantaire to accept. His friend scoffed.

“If you think so. I leave at 8am on Monday, if you still think you can do it be there.”

That had been on Saturday. He had spent his Sunday fretting about it, almost considering not to go, but Enjolras was competitive and he hated nothing more than a lost challenge, especially when he had started it in the first place. He had called Combeferre, who had told him very calmly that he should probably think about what he was doing the next time and that if he didn't want to lose he would have to go through with this.

Which was really the only reason why Enjolras stood in front of Grantaire's house on Monday morning, ten minutes before eight, a duffle bag stuffed with clothes and books and important things he might need hanging over his shoulder.

Grantaire looked slightly surprised but also incredibly smug when he walked out of the door and found Enjolras leaning against his van, deeply immersed in The Social Contract.

“So you came,” he said, a grin spreading over his face.

Enjolras looked up from his reading and raised an eyebrow. “I said I would come. What did you think?”

“I really hit a nerve, didn't I?”

“Well...” Enjolras wet his lips. “You know me long enough to expect a reaction like this.”

“Ah, but I didn't expect you to be spontaneous enough for it. But then that was all this was about...”

“You should stop talking and leave instead.”

Grantaire only laughed and unlocked the van. They threw their stuff into the back and soon enough they were out of Toulouse and on their way towards the coast.7

* * *

 

They were in Tuscany when Enjolras had an epiphany. “You planned this journey through, didn't you?” he asked Grantaire on a sunny afternoon in Lucca.

The other man, who was doing his best to devour a rather large portion of ice cream, stopped in his tracks and considered him for a moment, the spoon resting against his lips. “Yes, I did. There is no way I would leave on a trip like this without at least having a rough idea of which places to visit and how to get there.”

Enjolras raised an eyebrow. “So you lied when you told Courfeyrac that you would follow the street wherever it takes you.”

“I was drunk.” Grantaire shrugged. “Of course I would say that.”

“Is there any chance that you will tell me where you plan to go?”

Grantaire grinned at that. “No chance at all. That would totally defy the reason why you are here with me. You'll have to wait and see for yourself.”

Enjolras sighed but smiled. There was something thrilling about not knowing where their trip would take them.

* * *

 

They were in Rome when Enjolras found himself getting caught up in Grantaire's excitement about art. They were visiting the Vatican and his friend was going on about the art they saw and how amazing it was and somehow Enjolras couldn't suppress a smile, because there was a glint in Grantaire's eyes that made Enjolras realise that he had seldom seen him that passionate about something. He had to say he quite liked it.

“You know,” Grantaire said over dinner that evening, “I think it was actually a good idea to get you to come along, at least I have someone who can listen to my rambling now.” 

Enjolras scoffed. “I bet you would have found someone if you didn't have me with you.”

“Maybe. But I wouldn't know them as well as I know you,” Grantaire replied laughing.

All Enjolras could think about was that he was glad that it was him whom Grantaire showed his excitement to. And not some stranger.

* * *

 

A few days later they sat on a beach together, after a day of driving along a very scenic route from Rome to Naples. It was dark but still warm and Grantaire had produced a guitar from somewhere that he was playing absent-mindedly, while Enjolras was watching him from where he was sitting in the sand. Grantaire looked up from his instrument and smiled at Enjolras. The blond could only smile back while he tried to understand why that smile made his heart leap in his breast. That night they slept beneath the stars.

* * *

 

On the next evening they were sitting on a bench on the other side of Italy in Pesaro, Enjolras with ice cream, Grantaire with a sketchbook, both facing a small swing carousel. Grantaire was sketching the carousel and the big fountain next to it, his pencil rapidly moving over the page, forming the outline of the big globe structure in the middle of the fountain, while Enjolras was trying and failing not to watch him. He was fascinated by how immersed in his work his friend seemed, and with how much ease he seemed to capture the look of the things around them.

Grantaire's hand came to rest close to that of Enjolras on the bench and before the blond could stop himself he had moved his fingers to grasp those of Grantaire and squeeze his hand. The artist looked up from his work, looked at their hands in confusion for a split second and then up at Enjolras' face. He seemed to look for something for a moment, and Enjolras couldn't tell if he had found it or not, all he knew was that Grantaire smiled at him and that it was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

Later when they lay side by side in the back of the van and Enjolras listened to Grantaire breathing slowly next to him, he figured that he was thoroughly fucked. He couldn't bring himself to mind.

* * *

 

They moved on up north along the coast and on to Croatia and down south again. Enjolras had started to read through some of the books Grantaire kept in the van and they spent most of their days discussing books or arguing about politics. It was warm and the landscape was beautiful, and Enjolras felt at ease in a way that he hadn't known before.

On one of the mornings since that evening in Pesaro they had woken to find that they had shifted in their sleep and rested closer to each other than usual, Enjolras almost with an arm wrapped around Grantaire to hold him close, and Grantaire almost snuggling into him. It had been awkward for a split second, but then Grantaire had just grinned and Enjolras had smiled and they had laughed about it together and silently agreed not to talk about it. It took Enjolras until Dubrovnik to realise that Grantaire had been taking candid photos of him whenever he could, and that there was probably a number of them showing him in various places, watching their surroundings or reading while he thought Grantaire was occupied with other things. In Dubrovnik Grantaire added one in which Enjolras was turned towards the camera, sunglasses on his nose and one eyebrow raised as if to ask “Really?” After Dubrovnik Enjolras began to add shots of Grantaire with that glint in his eyes as he told Enjolras about something, or Grantaire deeply immersed in a drawing, or Grantaire with a soft smile on his face as he played the guitar in the fading sunlight. By the time they left Vienna for Prague the number of new photos of Grantaire was about equal to the number of new photos of Enjolras.

* * *

 

It was Enjolras who asked if they could visit Auschwitz when he realised that they were on their way to Krakow, and it was Grantaire who reached out to hold his hand when they were actually there and he saw how badly the atmosphere of the place affected his friend. When they got out and back to the van he lifted their still intertwined hands and pressed a soft kiss to Enjolras' knuckles. But it wasn't until later that day after they had eaten and were sitting together in the back of the van that Enjolras allowed himself to melt into a sorely needed embrace and held on to Grantaire as if his life depended on it. He didn't let go until the next morning. Grantaire couldn't say that he minded.

* * *

 

In Berlin Enjolras had another chance to see Grantaire bright eyed and excited about everything he saw when they visited Pergamon museum. They argued a bit about removing historical artefacts from the places they belonged and for once ended in a stalemate because as much as Enjolras resented the archaeologists of old for removing whole ruins and buildings from the places they belonged he had to agree that it turned out for the best in some cases and that the Ishtar gate was much safer in Berlin these days than in Iraq. The same couldn't be said about their positions on the German chancellor, and Berlin apparently being in the process of rebuilding the old palace.

They both agreed that Sanssouci Palace was nice and even Enjolras had to admit grudgingly that Frederick the Great wasn't all bad despite being a king.

* * *

 

They went on to Naumburg and when they stood in the church and Grantaire whispered excitedly about how amazing the works of the Master of Naumburg were, Enjolras watched him with a smile. It was when Grantaire actually paused to take a breath when the blond couldn't help himself and quickly kissed him. Grantaire blinked at him for a moment before a smile lit up his whole face and Enjolras just pulled him out of the building and somewhere where it was more appropriate to kiss him.

They ended up kissing a lot more that day and they both didn't exactly mind when they lost far too much time in Weimar and had to stay the night.

* * *

 

In Frankfurt Enjolras took the chance to rage on about how bad the financial sector actually was and let out a frustrated wine when Grantaire interrupted him with a kiss, both because he couldn't go on and because it didn't last long enough. He didn't complain any more when they spent most of their evening kissing in the back of the van.

* * *

 

They went on to Amsterdam and the three EU capitals, with a short stop at Metz to look at the windows of the cathedral before they drove north towards Normandy.

It was when they were somewhere on their way from Cherbourg towards La Hague that Grantaire asked, “So what will happen with us when we get back?”

Enjolras stared at him for a moment, caught completely off-guard, before he reached out and intertwined their fingers, driving be dammed. “I would very much like to stay, if you'll have me; spend more time with you and everything.”

Grantaire kept his eyes on the street but Enjolras could see the smile on his face as he kissed Enjolras knuckles without looking. “Of course I'll have you,” he said. He didn't let go of Enjolras' hand until he had to.

* * *

 

They came back to Toulouse a month after they had left, on the evening of a nice day in early August. Grantaire parked in front of the house in which Enjolras lived and for a moment the two of them only looked at each other.

“I was wrong, you can be spontaneous,” Grantaire said finally, a smile on his face.

Enjolras chuckled. “I'm glad I came,” he replied, before he moved in to kiss Grantaire goodbye. When they broke the kiss he moved to open the door and get out but he lingered for a moment, biting his lower lip, and finally turned back to Grantaire. “My parents will still be on holiday, you could stay the night and go back to yours tomorrow after a good night of sleep in an actual bed.”

Grantaire considered him for a moment, but then he smiled and leaned over to kiss him again. “If you want me to I will be glad to stay the night.”

“I do definitely want you to,” Enjolras said with a smile and another kiss, before he got out and stretched while he waited for Grantaire to join him, and led him towards the front door and closer towards a bed that would certainly be put to good use that night.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A note on the places they visit: I have been to seven of them, I think (Pesaro, Berlin, Weimar, Luxembourg, Metz, Strasbourg and Normandy) so I hope you can excuse any inaccuracies with the rest of them. The Auschwitz scene is based on what a friend who was there told me about it. And considering Berlin I took a small artistic liberty with Pergamon museum because it's currently closed down for renovations but if you ever get the chance to see it go! It's great and the Ishtar gate is truly beautiful! (Also Bode museum...I wasn't there yet but they have Nofretete and I did have the chance to see her and it has been 8 years since but it's still a highlight of my life...) (I'm sorry I'll stop now)
> 
> You can also come and say "hi" on [Tumblr](http://abschaumno1.tumblr.com)


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